1 MURDERER.
Ay, my good lord, he’s dead.
SUFFOLK.
Why, that’s well said. Go, get you to my house;
I will reward you for this venturous deed.
The King and all the peers are here at hand.
Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well,
According as I gave directions?
1 MURDERER.
’Tis, my good lord.
SUFFOLK.
Away, be gone!
[Exeunt Murderers.]
Sound trumpets. Enter the King, the Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Somerset with attendants.
KING HENRY.
Go, call our uncle to our presence straight;
Say we intend to try his grace today
If he be guilty, as ’tis published.
SUFFOLK.
I’ll call him presently, my noble lord.
[Exit.]
KING HENRY.
Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
Proceed no straiter ’gainst our uncle Gloucester
Than from true evidence of good esteem
He be approved in practice culpable.